Page 5 of Property of Bob

Checking parking lots. Looking in mirrors. Paying attention to cars that stayed behind me too long. Watching doors. The thought made the muscles across my shoulders tighten.

I forced them to relax. I was here now.

Whatever the hell here was.

The biker looked back at me. “I’m Prime.”

“Of course you are.”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. You don’t look like a Steve.”

His lips twitched again. “You don’t know any of our names, do you?”

“I know Bob.”

“Ashland.”

I pointed at him again. “We’re done with that.”

“We’re absolutely not.”

I shook my head and looked back at the RV. “Can you just tell me where he is?”

Prime didn’t answer right away. That got my attention. I turned back toward him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t a nothing pause.”

His eyes stayed on mine. Something cold crawled through my stomach.

“What?” I repeated.

“He’s not here.”

For one second, I just stared at him. “What do you mean he’s not here?”

“He’s not on the island.”

My fingers tightened around my bag strap. “Did he move?”

“No.”

“Then where is he?”

Prime hesitated.

I hated that. I hated it so much that my pulse immediately started pounding harder. “Prime.”

“The hospital.”

Everything around me seemed to get quieter even though I knew it hadn’t.

The music was still going. People were still laughing. Somewhere behind him, another chainsaw revved. But all I heard was hospital. “What happened?”

Prime’s expression closed off.